


What the Cooler Doesn't Know

by braezenkitty



Series: Black Metal & Pink Lace [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 00:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11840109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braezenkitty/pseuds/braezenkitty
Summary: The green cooler POV companion piece toBlack Metal & Pink Lace. Read that first or this will make no sense.





	What the Cooler Doesn't Know

Life with the Winchesters was not always easy. The beat up, green Coleman cooler had seen more than its fair share of beer bottles, as well as sandwiches and food, the occasional smoothie (that never failed to spill and make the cooler a sticky mess, and not the fun kind of sticky mess) and other less savory things. Dean had been known to throw in the occasional severed body part (even an actual head once) or spell ingredient that needed to be kept cold.

Although the Winchesters always cleaned it out with care after their trips, scrubbing it with bleach fairly often, they were not gentle with it. It had been used as a seat and a footrest, slid across dirt and rocks, tossed onto picnic tables, kicked around in the back seat of the Impala, and thrown into the trunk. The cooler put up with a lot of abuse.

But none of that held a candle to the abuse it endured now, sitting in its usual spot in the trunk of the Impala, nestled between shotguns and bags of salt.

Most people know there’s something special about the particular 1967 Chevy Impala in which the Coleman lived out its days when not in use, and that something special tended to influence the things around it. Over the years, the Coleman had developed a low level consciousness. Just enough to be aware of what was going on around it and how it was being handled.

So when the Impala’s trunk popped open and no Winchester began to rummage around, the cooler knew something was up. And then the pink lace had slithered past it and out of the trunk.

That in itself was nothing out of the ordinary. The Coleman knew the Impala pulled it out occasionally, but from its vantage point inside the trunk, it never could quite tell what was going on with the lace. It would just disappear from the trunk for a bit, then slither back inside a little while later.

The engine roared to life, the vibrations thrumming through the Coleman’s metal sides. It purred along and the Coleman sat in its spot, not thinking about anything in particular because it was a cooler and didn’t have much to think about. But then a second engine started and revved. This was something new.

The Coleman perked up, as much as a cooler could perk up, and waited to see what would happen. It hadn’t felt the vibrations of footsteps, so there couldn’t have been a Winchester starting the Impala or the second vehicle. The Coleman wondered if this was some kind of social thing; if the Impala had a friend. It sometimes wished for a friend, but not having any moving parts except for a couple of hinges would’ve made it difficult to communicate anyway.

The Coleman’s thoughts were interrupted when the Impala’s trunk began to shimmy, jostling the shotguns and causing them to bump against the cooler’s side. The two engines revved loudly, as if egging each other on. A song started to play from somewhere in the garage.

A moment later, the entire trunk bounced violently and the sound of metal scraping on metal filled the air. The Coleman was knocked onto its front, the contents of the trunk bouncing around and adding more scrapes and scars to its sides.

After a few minutes of rhythmic bouncing, the trunk fell still. The Coleman heard one of the Winchesters shouting over the music. He sounded really upset. But there was no more bouncing and jostling of stuff into its sides, so it couldn’t bring itself to care. If it could have shrugged, it would have before settling back into its spot between the salt and the shotguns.

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, it's that time of the month again... [SPN Coldest Hits](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com)


End file.
